


Dear Evan Hansen, It's From Japan

by MayoNassey



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, Other, Slow Burn, Suspicions, i squipped evan sorry guys, squipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 00:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayoNassey/pseuds/MayoNassey
Summary: When Evan's best (family) friend offers him an expensive new "therapy" medication, Evan is suspicious and hesistant. The SQUIP promises it means no harm to Evan, and that its only there to help him improve. Evan is less than inclined to believe that, especially when the SQUIP takes the form of none other than Connor Murphy. Evan still has to work hard to keep up the facade of the false friendship, and enlists the help of his SQUIP. But the SQUIP starts acting... weird. Will things turn out better than before? Or will disaster strike upon these three pitiful children?





	1. 1 - activation

**Author's Note:**

> hey this is my first fic dont kill me lmao

Evan knew better than to take things from strangers. It had been drilled into his head almost as much as the pills had been drilled into his hand and the therapy drilled into his soul. His mom wanted only to protect him from people that wanted to exploit his needs for medication, to deliver only broken promises and placebo. She was scared of a reality where Evan couldn't exist without people trying to make money off of his illness. 

But Jared Kleinman was no stranger. At least, not as much as other people were. He had begrudgingly deemed Evan a 'friend', even if Evan felt in his bones that he was lying. If it was a lie, he did a good job keeping up with it, since he had helped Evan with many a daunting task of writing false emails and skirting around the realm of legality. So when Mr. Kleinman had presented Evan with a small packet labeled 'For Acorn Boy' after class, he had felt more curiosity than alarm.

"Wh-um..." Evan started, mumbling at the packet in Jareds hands. "Wh-what is this?" He looked up towards Jared's smug expression, as he smiled coyly. "This, my friend-" his expression faltered for just a moment, before urging the packet into Evan's hands. "Is for you." Jared smiled a bit wider, anticipating a surge of gratitude from the receiving party. "y-yes but-" Evan flipped it over, reading the label with an air of confusion. He went to ask Jared about the not so kind nickname, but upon seeing his expectant expression, he went right back to talking. "I-I mean, ah, thank you!" "You're. Welcome." Jared boasted, smiling a toothless smile. "b-but, um, hm." Evan went to peel the packet open, but decided against it, in case this was some sort of prank. "what is it?"

"It's a pill."

Evans face dropped as he closed his hands around the packet, shaking it a bit in his palms. "n-no, i'm good on refills and I don't need any new meds I swe-" Jared responded by placing a reluctant hand on his shoulder. "It's not that kind of pill, dumbass." Evan jumped a bit at the sudden contact. "then what is it?"

"A specialty pill, from Japan." Jared began, releasing Evan from his grip. "It helps people with stuff. Super hard to get your hands on." Jared paced gently, delivering information to a bewildered Hansen. "I got that one from a guy on eBay. Said he had them specially ordered. Handcrafted medicinal technology." Jared seemed all too enthralled in his tale. Evan opened his hands to look at the now mildly sweaty packet. "a-are you sure?" This seemed a bit too vague and wondrous to be real. Evan already had a bunch of people trying to fix him, he didn't need Jared to do that too. "n-no it's ok I don't need it-" He mumbled again, trying to push it back to him. "No no, I insist. Happy birthday or whatever the fuck." Jared stood there, adamantly refusing any return of his gift. 

 

 

Evan sat on his bed, his fingers tapping away at the laptop perched atop a book on his sheets. His brow furrowed as he searched for information on this... device. A few small forums describing meet ups, a couple password protected websites and a kooky conspiracy theorist were the fruits of his excavation. He sighed deeply and leaned back on his pillow, looking at the screen with a muddy expression. His eyes wandered to the small grey pill atop the orange packet. It had a small blue light that rotated around the center of the oblong object. It certainly looked futuristic. 

Evan's hand absentmindedly found the hem of his shirt, as he fidgeted and glared in suspicion towards the prize he had gotten from his short encounter with Jared. Next to the pill was a can of Mountain Dew, another unrefusable gift from him. "Take it with this stuff." Jared had said. "That's the only way it works."

Evan pondered a bit, reaching over to the can and cradling it in his hands. Was Jared telling him the truth, or was this some sort of setup? Experimental technology, the websites said. That means it's top-of-the-line. Expensive. Evan's breathing got a bit weird as he diverted his attention back to the pill. Oh god, how much did it cost? This incredible gift from his only friend- it'd be really rude to just... Throw it away. If he didn't, then Jared would hate him for not taking his gift and then he would be alone and...

Evan's finger traced the ridge of the soda can as he stared holes into the device. He broke away from his imaginary staring contest and shook his head, running his hand through his hair. He kept glancing at his side table, vision missing the device every time. His breathing got faster as he thought, his finger tapping violently on the top of the can. Thoughts and words swirled in his mind as his breathing got faster and faster, everything was just so fast and loud and-

Crack. His finger had found the tab to the can. The cold drink that had spilled onto his finger slowly drew him back to reality. His breathing deepened. 

Suddenly, without warning, he snatched the pill off of the table. He inspected it with shaky hands. He looked to the now open can. 

Maybe it was impulse, or maybe it was pressure, but something willed him to bring that pill to his mouth and take a sip of the soda. 

He sat in suspenseful silence. His breathing was scarce, his muscles were tense. He was listening with every bone in his body. The only sound was the dying fizz of the drink. 

All was calm.

Evan felt a sudden pang of pain ringing in his skull. He hissed as he brought his hand impulsively to his ear.

TARGET FEMALE: INACCESSIBLE.

Evan sprang out of his bed. His eyes were wide in fear. That voice...  
"Hello?" Evan cried, startled. Was someone there?

CALIBRATION IN PROCESS. PLEASE EXCUSE SOME MILD DISCOMFORT.

"d-discomfort?" A searing pain spread through Evan's spine, permeating through what felt like every nerve of his body. He fell to the floor, knees too weak to support him. He gripped his hair tightly as he curled into a tight ball, writhing around. Those few seconds felt like hours as the pain died down. Was it over?

It was quiet again. There wasn't any talking. Was there even talking to begin with?

CALIBRATION COMPLETE. ACCESS PROCEDURE INITIATED.

There it was. That voice. Evan wasn't imagining this, he didn't imagine this. He didn't make any voices talk, he-

DISCOMFORT LEVEL MAY INCREASE.

The pain was worse. He didn't know it could get any worse. He screamed hard as his mouth dried from fear, his fingernails scratching hard at the sides of his head, drawing blood. It hurt, it hurt so much. It was like breaking your arm everywhere in every bone and every ligament. He mashed his head upon the carpeted floor, pounding desperately to try and knock himself out, to spare himself from the pain. 

ACCESSING: NEURO MEMORY. ACCESSING: MUSCLE MEMORY. ACCESS PROCEDURE: COMPLETE.

Oh my god it was over. The pain melted from his body as he began to breathe again. He didn't even notice he was holding his breath. He looked up from his elbows. A pair of shoes stood in front of him. They looked familiar. 

"Evan Hansen." 

No.

"Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor."

Not him.

Evan dared to look up at the figure, knots spreading through his stomach faster than nerves could fire. A tall figure wearing black jeans and jacket graced his presence, looking down at him. Evan's face paled as his stomach dropped through the floor.

Painted nails.

Long hair.

Connor Murphy.

"Your SQUIP."


	2. 2 - conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for in detail description of panic attacks

Evans breathing stopped again. His eyes wandered up and down the lanky, surprisingly put-together boy. His sight vibrated and warped with a screen of frightful tears that now lined his mossy brown eyes. His gaping mouth quivered it’s way shut, lips splitting apart to exhale a terrified sob. He curled in on himself, stalky branch-like arms wrapping around his knees slowly, surely, practiced.

Then he remembered there was someone in the house- in the room with him. You can’t break down. Not in front of someone. Someone who can tell people that you break down. That you’re a freak the cries in pain by themselves on their bedroom floor. People will hate you for it. For being weak. 

He loosened up, trying to push upwards with the elbow he had on the floor. Face damp with tears of hurt and trauma, he tried to speak an apology, an excuse, a reason. That no, you’re mistaken, Connor Murphy. I’m not really the freak you see blubbering before you. I’m not really the weird kid that writes sex letters to himself. I’m not going to cry.

But he did cry. He was crying. And Connor had already seen. Connor was standing there, watching. Analytical brown eyes stared down at him, a slice of one of his irises a piercing cyan blue. That’s not a normal eye color, Evan thought instinctively to himself. He nearly shrieked in response to his own accusations, but instead, another thick sob came pouring out. How dare you say that, Evan? How dare you insult your guest? How dare you cry in front of this person, and call them ugly? How dare you be ugly? Disgusting? Emotional. Monster. Failure. Disappointment.  
Liar.

And then there was silence. 

Perfect silence. The noise in his head was... gone. The words he was thinking had just... vanished. His mind was clear. It was almost deafening. It felt suffocating. Where were the words? Where did they go? 

Evan sat up slowly, opting to cross his legs on the shag carpet that abraised his limbs in whole. He held a calloused hand to the side of his head carefully, cupping his own cheek, wiping his tears in confused shock. He felt in and around his ear. Did something happen there? He blinked the lingering tears from his eyes, as they thumped silently into the wool fibres of the carpet, and through the knee of a thin, kneeling, black jean-clad leg. Evan now felt a hand on his shoulder, that slid up to his neck. How long had that been there? And he’s hearing something too. Connor’s talking to him.

“-van. Evan! Evan!” Connor was kneeling in front of the distressed Hansen. His hands were firmly clasped onto the boy, urging him out of his shocked trance. Evan rocked limply with every firm movement of Connors hands as he shook him gently, back to reality. Connor leaned back once Evan had made eye contact.

“You were experiencing distress,” Spoke Connor Murphy, a veil of concern on his slightly shimmering face. His words seemed robotic and practiced, without life. As Evan was about to formulate an excuse, Connor spoke again.

“You were suffering a severe bout of anxiety, which triggered a panic attack and intrusive thoughts. Are you feeling better?”

Woah. How did Connor know that? Evan’s gaze trailed to the hologram’s hands, seeing them loosely clasped around his own. He lifted his hand carefully, as Connor’s hands remained grasped onto his. His nails were painted bright cyan. Now, from what Evan knew, blue was never Connor’s colour. Then again, Evan never really knew much about him. His eyes followed up his arm and to the neatly trimmed and well-cared for mop of black hair that rested peacefully on his thin frame. His face had a perfect symmetry about it, making Evans stomach churn in an instinctual discomfort. But his expression remained concerned, almost caring as he stared into Evans eyes, seemingly unaware of the awkward tension he was creating.

Of course, he was completely aware.

“Oh- My bad. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

The hologram kept staring. Great.

But this gave Evan time to observe the most out of place quality about this… clone. This fake. Connor’s eyes, however dead, were bright. They were wide and glinted in the artificial sunlight. Evan didn’t know what color Connor’s eyes really were, he didn’t really notice during his short encounter in the library. Because of this, Connor’s eyes looked bright hazel, the same tone he saw in Zoe Murphy’s eyes. He really did like her eyes. Not in a creepy serial killer way, though. Not like that.

But one thing that Zoe Murphy’s eyes did not have in them was a perfect quarter slice of her left iris discolored in bright, shiny cyan. This was what made this impostor stand out. It was almost comforting, knowing that this Connor was fake, that his ghost hadn’t come back to haunt him somehow, that he had to repent. Despite this small fragment of comfort he barely found in this, it was offset by a heavy dose of another, more pressing concern: Connor Murphy is not supposed to have cyan eyes. Humans are not supposed to have cyan eyes.

What is Connor?

“Your SQUIP!” He chirped automatically, causing Evan to yelp and retract his hands.

“how did you know what I was thinking?” He hastily whispered, concern lacing every syllable. His body was angled away from him in case he needed to make a break for it, nevermind the fact that Connor was in front of the door.

“Well, I am implanted inside your neural systems!”  
Oh no.  
“I know everything you’re thinking, and everything you’re doing!”  
Ohhhhhhhhhh no.  
“You don’t need to worry about privacy!”  
YES HE MOST CERTAINLY DOES.

Evan began to freak out anew. His eyes darted around the room, a futile attempt to try and distract himself from Not Connor. Clenching his jaw, he cautiously glanced back over to Connor, scared he would be mad for some reason. He wasn’t.  
Weird.

“C-can everyone see you?” He mumbled, mildly concerned that he had released a hyper intelligent AI hologram on the world. That opens up a new whole CAN of problems, just the thought of being seen with this, frankly, odd, computer and being blamed for the wrong that he could do to the living human world made his forehead bead with sweat. 

Luckily, Connor closed that can pretty quickly.  
“No! I exist only in your mind. Only you can perceive me.” 

Oh jesus, Evan thought.  
I’m schizophrenic.

“I’m afraid not, Evan Hansen! I am artificial, therefore do not attribute to the societal standards of what is described as Schizophrenia.”

So… no?  
“No.”

Well, that’s a slight relief. Can’t possibly get worse than he already is. He looked back up at Connor, studying his face with a newfound interest. He wasn’t a threat, he doesn’t think. And he wasn’t going to haunt him, and he wasn’t going to tell everyone about him crying like a pathetic whelp. 

Evan slowly stood, brushing his hands down his polo shirt. It felt nice to touch something real, especially after that mildly disturbing interaction. He looked at Connor, awkwardly standing with his side to him. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, trying to properly meet Connor’s constantly confidently curious gaze.

“So— uh…” Evan began.  
“Do you… want anything to- ah- to drink? I have leftover pizza in the fridge- it’s uh- it’s Hawaiian.”


End file.
